


Breaking Patterns

by Acantha_Rayne_OakMoon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Activist Lucius, Elm & Vine Heartstrings 'Muggleborn Lovin' Malfoy' Challenge, F/M, Malfoy Family Magic, Pureblood Traditions, Reformed Lucius
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:26:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24715291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acantha_Rayne_OakMoon/pseuds/Acantha_Rayne_OakMoon
Summary: For the last ten years, whenever Hermione broke up with a boyfriend she had a pattern… two days of ice-cream alone, two weeks of margaritas with various friends and then as many rebound marathon shagathon sessions with Draco Malfoy as it took to feel like herself again but there’s a problem this time… in the intermittent time since she was last single, the gorgeous git inconveniently went and got himself bloody married. Who could possibly fill that void now?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Charlie Weasley (implied), Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy (implied), Hermione Granger/Fred Weasley/George Weasley (implied), Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley (implied), Hermione Granger/Viktor Krum (implied), Luna Lovegood/Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson/Harry Potter
Comments: 10
Kudos: 90





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for:  
> The 2020 Challenge:  
> Muggleborn Lovin’ Malfoy
> 
> Prompt:  
> When Lucius Malfoy’s change of heart is put to the test, he will stop at nothing to prove he has become a better man! And maybe while doing so, he will gain the love of someone he had never expected…
> 
> Rules:  
> Main pairing must be Lumione, however all other pairings are allowed.  
> Stories must be at least 5k, but there is no limit on the length.  
> All entries must be submitted before July 10, 2020.  
> Story must contain a show of Lucius being an activist.  
> Any artwork or manipulations must be submitted into the Elm & Vine Heartstrings 2020 Summer Challenge album in the E&V group on Facebook.

_Hermione scooted from her lover, breathless and landed back on the mattress, face down, with a soft thunk. They were never cuddly after sex – that would just be too much for the friends-with-benefits, no-strings-attached, fuck-buddy situation they had happening. And even if they would both be interested in post coital comfort and snuggling, for each of these two it would just seem wrong to do so with each other._

_“Damn, Granger. You never cease to me amaze me.” Draco responded, equally breathless._

_“Not so bad yourself there, Malfoy. I love getting you to break out of all that holier-than-thou etiquette and good breeding. It’s good for your soul. And sexy as hell.”_

_“And I love that you make me feel like that ridiculous nickname I had in school.”_

_“Ferret?” She asked, teasingly._

_He slapped her exposed arse in retaliation for the old jibe but all it got from her was a giggle._

_“No.” He responded poutily but then grinned like a Cheshire cat… “The Slytherin Sex God.”_

_“Well you might have earned that title now but I’m assuming at sixteen and with certain pressures you were under which will remain nameless, you hadn’t earned it back then.”_

_“I suppose you have a point.” He grumbled._

_“I usually do. Now, I wanted to ask you… where did you learn to do that thing with your tongue? I thought I was going to literally explode when you did that.”_

_“Can’t tell you that… Malfoy family secret. Sorry!” He stated, not seeming very sorry at all._

_“Oh my God, please don’t tell me you learned that from your father.”_

_“Well, not exactly… it’s in the family-. Oh no you don’t. I’m not telling you.”_

_She pouted but it eventually turned into a smirk._

_“Let’s just say it’s been passed down as a way to get a reluctant witch who is being forced into an arranged marriage to melt into acceptance for her betrothed.”_

_“Oh charming… although I can see the appeal. If I didn’t actually know you were a git, something like that might turn my head for five minutes.”_

_“Five whole minutes… not a chance. You'd be swooning for me. If it wasn’t for the magic that prevents me marrying anyone but a pureblood, I could have you at a ceremonial altar, saying ‘I do’ before you could even look at someone else.”_

_“Keep telling yourself that Malfoy. And whilst I think it’s awful that your family magic limits who you can marry to just purebloods, even if that wasn’t the case, I think our time might be done. I had a date last week… and it went really… well.”_

_“Ooooo, so is that why you came to me all hot and bothered on Friday? Not willing to give in to the new chap too soon but needing to get your freak on with your local neighbourhood ‘Sex God’? That’s not very ethical of you Granger.”_

_“I never should have introduced you to comic book movies… and as for my ethics, I completely blame the bad influence of the Slytherin Sex God I’ve been shagging.”_

_Draco grinned proudly both because he’d got under her skin with a Spiderman reference and that she’d finally agreed he was a Sex God. She had blatantly refused to for the last six years of this arrangement._

_“So who’s the lucky son of a banshee that gets to fuck you_ and _call you his girlfriend?” He asked, suddenly curious._

_“Charlie Weasley.” She told him rather proudly._

_“Finally decided to give another ginger a go? What’s Weaselbee gonna think of you fucking his big brother?”_

_“I doubt he’ll care. He’s still fucking his way through all the war-hero fangirls.”_

_“Yeah but still…. Wasn’t he quite jealous even in school? I can’t imagine it will be easier just because it’s his brother. In fact, I imagine it would be worse. Even I’d be put out if you started fucking someone I was related to.”_

_“Well, he didn’t care when he walked in and found me playing the filling in a twin sandwich two years ago.”_

_Draco’s eyes promptly and comically almost popped out his head as if he were a cartoon._

_“What…? You were with that Greengrass girl and I’d just broken up with Viktor… again. I needed comforting. They knew I just wanted a bit of fun and as ‘fun’ is practically their middle names, they obliged.”_

_She was getting a bit irate now. He hadn’t really meant anything by it and deep down she knew that but she was still getting up and dressed._

_“Okay, okay… no need to get defensive.” He attempted to placate._

_“And as for the idea of fucking someone in your family… aren’t all the purebloods linked in some way by blood or marriage…? So technically, I already have. Unless you meant your immediate family which would mean your father and as much as I find the blonde hair and the broad shoulders of the Malfoy men rather attractive, given the past, I’m going to have to say that_ that _will never happen.”_

_She watched as he wrinkled his nose as if picturing her bouncing on his father’s balls. ‘Serves him right,’ she thought, suppressing a shudder at the very idea._

_“Well, I better be off. I have a meeting at 11 and really should get home. Shower and change, you know, so I don’t meet with Kingsley smelling of sex with a Malfoy.”_

_“Ha-fucking-ha. I should release a cologne… Eau de Slytherin Sex God. What do you think?”_

_“You’re a prat.” She said and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek._

_“Oooo, harsh Granger.” He said, sounding wounded as he brought a hand to his naked chest. “Kiss to the cheek… you must really like this one.”_

_“You were amazing… as always,” she leaned in and kissed his lips chastely, “…But yes, I do.”_

_With those parting words, she waltzed out of his room, out of the Manor and towards a very dragon-centric life with Charlie Weasley._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I haven't written two chapters in one day in a very long time. This feels rather marvellous. Hope you enjoy. Please comment and kudo. I do so love comments and kudos. 
> 
> I think I caught all my spelling mistakes, typos and grammar mishaps. If not, my apologies. I am beta-less.

Hermione awoke with a thumping headache and a familiar but not expected weight pressed across her right hip and a firm-ish hand grasping her left breast. There was body heat coming from behind her too and she had no idea who it belonged to.

She and Charlie had broken up almost two weeks ago due to irreconcilable differences – he spent too much time with dragons and she wouldn’t move to Romania – and with her pattern of returning to normal, broken, thanks to Draco marrying Luna last year, she had extended her ice cream eating from two days to a week and then taken to a second week of fire-whiskey, crying and drunken masturbation.

Harry had come to check on her on day twelve and found her in a rather pathetic state; dry-heaving over the bowl of her toilet and whimpering Charlie’s name. He’d done the only thing he could think of and called in reinforcements – his wife – Pansy. There was something about Slytherins that made depression just vanish and make way for something entirely more satisfying – revenge. Or at least that was in his experience after finding his first wife, Ginny, screwing a team colleague from the Harpies.

Pansy had promptly joined her husband in Granger’s bathroom, via the floo, then hauled Hermione up by her hair, lifted her bodily and dumped her under shower, turning on the cold water.

Hermione had screamed, sworn retribution and then heaved again, before slumping into a cold, wet lump of tangled, curls, sick and tears.

“Get a hold of yourself, Granger. No Weasley is worth getting yourself in this state over. I’ve been telling you that for years and my darling husband here learned that one the hard way. Now you’re going to as well. Get yourself cleaned up and I'll see you in one hour at the Leaky Cauldron.”

Always quite methodical in following orders, even if the ones she listened to didn’t usually come from a Slytherin, Hermione figured it would probably be a good idea to do as Pansy said. She didn’t really want to, didn’t feel up to it but if Harry felt helpless enough to hand her over to his wife then she must be really bad.

An hour later, she was at the very least clean as she walked into the Leaky Cauldron, dressed in her tight black jeans, thigh high boots and low cut, deep purple jersey-fabric top. She always wore a version of this outfit when out with Pansy. It was casual but not dowdy, youthful in style but not glaringly so.

Pansy greeted her with a warm (for Pansy) smile and a wagging finger.

“You forgot your make up. We can’t go to Pythonorous with your eyes all red and puffy.” Pansy said as she stared at her friend. Then, quick as a flash Hermione found herself being dragged into the beauty salon two doors down from the Leaky.

Thirty minutes of beauty spells, a straightening charm on her curls (which she hadn’t even bothered to tackle after her shower) and a glossy red set of enchanted talons extending from her nailbeds later and Hermione had never been happier that she had made friends with Pansy five years ago. Not that she’d had a choice when the witch married her best friend but she had at least made the effort before she had to.

“Now, are you ready to see the biggest wand of our generation?” Pansy asked, wriggling her eyebrows up and down as she guided Hermione toward the corner where Diagon met Knockturn.

“What? Where are you taking me, Parkinson?” Hermione asked in her ‘shrill’ tone. Pansy cringed.

“I already told you we’re going to Pythonorous. You know, _Blaaaaaise’s_ bar/club/lounge thing. And it’s Potter now, or did you forget?”

“No, I didn’t forget. Bitch! It’s the only reason I talk to you at all is that you’re married to my best friend but I have no interest in watching ponsy show-off wizards wiggle their backsides and swing their schlongs around. It’s degrading to men and I think that you even thought I’d want to is…”

“Shut up Granger, you’re a bigger slag that I used to be. Exactly how many of the wizards from our year have you slept with exactly?”

“Not that many… only… wait…”

Hermione started counting on her fingers and quickly ran out.

“Ok fine, so I’ve had my fair share but…”

“No. Literally, how many? I really wanna know.”

“Erm… just from our year? Twelve I think.”

“Fucking hell, slut. I thought you were gonna say about six. Tell me who? You have to… wait… you never shagged my Potter did you?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. She’d already sworn blind a hundred times over that she’d never shagged Harry. A blow-job in the tent to pull him out of one of his dark moods after wearing the locket didn’t count, did it? And even if it did, Pansy didn’t need to know about that. For a pureblood princess she was very insecure sometimes.

“Of course I didn’t have sex with Harry. That would just be weird. The thing is Pans, I’m 29, I’m single, I enjoy sex but I refuse to settle for second best, especially in the bedroom. In all honestly, if Draco’s personality didn’t vex me quite so completely, I'd have nailed him down way before Luna had the chance. He really did live up to that stupid nickname from school.”

“What the fuck…? You shagged Draco and didn’t tell me? When was this?”

“Erm… after every break up since I was 19. It’s a pattern I have, you see… two days of ice cream and crying, two weeks of drinking, crying and masturbation, endless hours of bliss on the end of a Malfoy cock and then I’m good as new for meeting the next failure. The only problem this time is that Malfoy’s cock went and got a ring put on it…”

Pansy snorted at the visual.

“That’s not what I meant.” Hermione said indignantly before joining in the giggles.

“Come on, H. This will do you some good. As your usual pattern of behaviour is cut off, maybe you could take one of the dancers home. You know, Astoria told me that Blaise got her over Draco by just fucking the memory of him out of her. And Goyle dances here too. Take that look off your face Granger and loosen up. It’s been ten years since school, the puppy fat is gone, he’s all muscle now… like that actor, the one you showed me in that dancing film… Step Up, wasn't it?”

“Yeah, Channing…”

“That’s him. Goyle had more muscles than even _him_. If you’re into that sort of thing.”

“Well, I suppose it can’t hurt to window shop for a new rebound, right?”

“That’s the spirit. Now…” Pansy asked, linking her arm through Hermione’s, “About these twelve blokes from our year, was Longbottom one of them, you know I’ve always been curious…”

“Pansy!” Hermione shrieked. “A lady never kisses and tells.”

“And I thought we’d already established that you, Granger, are no lady.”

They both burst into unladylike laughter and entered Pythonorous with Hermione telling Pansy about the prowess of half the wizards from their year… including Neville Longbottom.

* * *

That was the last thing she really remembered, other than the fact that Blaise Zabini was well and truly blessed in the python department. Honestly, that man could never have been placed anywhere but Slytherin purely for the symbolism. The drinks had flowed as easily as the oil slipping down the rock hard abs on stage, the games of seeing how many shots they could do between thrusts of wayward _wands_ had been hilarious and were responsible for the self-induced (although she would definitely blame Pansy… or Charlie… or Draco) cruciatus cursing every synapse of her brain.

She groaned a little. Anything more would make her head actually explode, and definitely not in a good way. The hope was to rouse whoever was behind her and pray he had a hangover potion. This was not the first time she had woken up in this state, especially in the drinking phase of her pattern but it was usually Draco she felt behind her. The chest she was pulled into was definitely broader than Draco’s. Even in this state she could tell that. She knew his body as well as she knew her own.

The small groan hadn’t worked. The anonymous wizard hadn’t moved a muscle.

“Fuuuuuuck!” she groaned out lowly, trying to shift out of _Mr. Broad Chest’s_ arms. It always helped to voice the hell she was in. She stilled as she sensed movement on his part but his arm was tightening. Shit!

“I need to pee. And throw up. And die.” She croaked out from a scratchy, carpet dry throat.

“Charming, Miss Granger. I really didn’t need such detailed particulars.” He said, loosening his grip.

‘Oh God’ she thought. ‘I know that voice. That’s… that’s…’

“Lucius Malfoy. At your service Miss Granger.” He said mockingly. She could hear the sarcasm, the sneer, the…

“Oh shit, did I say that out loud?”

“I’m afraid so. Now if you could get up, I do not wish for your bodily fluids to coat my two-thousand year old chaise.”

“I would have a witty retort for that if said fluids were not being so insistent. Give me half hour and a gallon of coffee and trust me… you’ll be wowed.”

“Ridley…” Lucius called out and within seconds a smartly pillow-cased house elf popped into the parlour? Library? Hermione didn’t know. No, not the library. No book smell.

“How can Ridley be of service, Mister Malfoy, sir?” The elf said excitedly, bowing low.

Hermione grumbled about the volume of elf-popping, making Lucius smirk and Ridley pout.

“A hangover potion for Miss Granger, if you please. And then if you could show her to the guest suite in the family wing so she may freshen up.”

“Yes sir,” said the elf and Hermione found her mind clawing to wonder at their seemingly cordial relationship. From what Dobby had always said, Lucius Malfoy was a tyrant with the elves.

“You seem to have lost the filter between your mind and your mouth, Miss Granger. Dobby was a peculiar elf, not well suited to service and I was brought up to believe that elves serve; it’s what they live for. I never understood him and he certainly never understood me. Our misunderstanding came out in my temper and his ingrained sense to punish himself for my temper. It is something I regret but refuse to dwell on. Can we move on from such things now?”

“That’s too much information for my brain right now. It still has half a gallon of whatever I was drinking last night in it. What was I drinking last night? And how did I even get here? With… well… you?”

“We’ll get you all cleaned up and straight –headed before I re-tell that most amusing tale.”

Hermione groaned again. Half from her thumping head, half from anticipated embarrassment.

“I’m not going to like this tale am I?”

Lucius amusement was so evident his smirk was practically as luminous as his name.

“Well, that depends dear. How familiar are you with Miss Parkinson’s, sorry, Mrs Potter’s remedies for curing a broken heart?”

“Erm… to be honest, your son is usually my remedy for such things, until he went and got married.”

“Ah, that explains much. You see…”

Ridley chose that moment to return; a bright blue, _glowing_ , potion in his hand. Bowing before Hermione he handed her the phial of liquid and waited patiently for her to be ready for escorting to the family wing.

“I’ve never seen a hangover potion like this before.”

“Have you seen many? You always struck me as too scholarly to be the wild child of Gryffindor Tower.”

She snorted. The regretted it instantly as a wave of nausea bubbled up her throat. Embracing her once and forever present Gryffindor recklessness, she uncorked the bottle and necked the luminous contents.

Instant relief flooded her brain, her limbs, her entire nervous system and she let out a groan of pleasure that wouldn’t be uncommon in one of the brothels down Knockturn Alley.

“Fuck, that’s amazing. You could make a fortune selling that. My whole body is tingling.”

Lucius smirked. He could see her pleasure in the tightening of her nipples that seemed to point directly at him. His gaze lingered a moment too long before he averted his eyes. It had been a long time since someone had displayed such a feeling before him.

His wife had sadly passed away whilst he was serving his sentence is Azkaban. Some slow release curse from the Battle of Hogwarts that had taken almost two years to kill her. He had been furious that he hadn’t been informed until he was released four years later. He had grieved a woman who had been dead for four years and only stopped dressing like a grieving widow in the last six months. He still blamed himself.

Draco still blamed him too. He said he didn’t but it was quite obvious to Lucius that that debt would never be paid. The debt he owed his son because his decisions had killed the boy’s mother. It was why he had so easily accepted Draco’s wish to marry Luna Lovegood.

This new information was interesting though and he couldn’t deny that he was surprised. If he was reading the Granger woman’s blushes and barely-cryptic words correctly, she had been intimate with his son on multiple occasions. He wondered if there was another reason, besides the family magic only allowing pureblood marriages that he would’ve turned her down. She was still very fit for… how old was she now? Almost 30? Yes. Same year as Draco.

He’d woken with her breast in his hand; neither of them had mentioned it. Decorum being the reason his part; he wasn’t sure if she’d even noticed. He hoped she hadn’t noticed his erection. Although… he dipped his eyes again to appreciate her wand-tip hard nipples and absently wondered what colour they were; how sensitive she was; if she would shudder at the touch of his tongue on them.

“Are you quite done, Miss Granger?” He asked suddenly as he realised his mind was getting carried away. Her blush was quite beautiful and sent a shot of molten lust surging straight toward his groin. “Alas, the potion is not mine to sell. An invention of your dear Potion’s Professor. We often needed a stronger to than usual cure with the amount we drank to not think about the Dark Lord.”

At the mention of Voldemort, Hermione snapped fully out of her blissful moment and looked directly into Lucius eyes. “I don’t want to talk about that. It was a long time ago now and moving on is what everyone needs to do.”

She sounded more like she was trying to convince herself more than him.

“Whilst we are on the topic for just a moment, I wish for you to accept my apology for the treatment you received in my home during that year. If I had had any control over… perhaps there is nothing I can say to assuage that guilt. It has taken a long time for me to come to terms with the fact that I was made less than nothing by the madman that took over my home.”

He hadn’t noticed her moving and he flinched almost imperceptibly when her hand touched his softly.

“You’re forgiven. I believe we have all been through enough to continue holding on to years-old grudges that belong in the past.”

“You are too kind. Too good.” He spoke softly and squeezed her hand, looking deeply into her sparkling amber eyes that were beginning to shimmer with unshed tears. That wasn’t what he intended but understood they were laying to rest very old, very painful and deeply ingrained ghosts.

He smiled a little at her as the first tear drop fell.

“Now, off you pop to clean up. The potion indeed works wonders but nothing beats a long, hot shower to feel good as new.”

Wiping her eyes, she grinned at this new, kind Lucius and thought he deserved something for his kindness toward her and his apology; compared to a decade ago, he was a completely new man. She leaned in closer and allowed her lips to drag across his high cheekbone.

“You’ve apologised to me now and I’ve forgiven you. The past is dead and buried and we’re going to keep it there. You and I are going to be a beacon of light for how the 21st century is going to be different for muggleborn-pureblood, Gryffindor-Slytherin relations than all the centuries that have gone before. Will you help me bring in the new dawn Lucius?”

Hermione hoped the invitation in her voice and in her words was obvious. It had occurred to her as the almost orgasm-inducing potion took effect that not only had Lucius made sure she was safe for the night but had been a complete gentleman with her, other than a slumbering grope of her breast which he could hardly be blamed for. He was extremely attractive, intelligent and had all the things she adored about Draco but in ten-times the abundance.

And, so she adjusted her pattern. She didn’t need Draco to get over her broken heart, she just needed ‘a Malfoy’ and there was no-one in the world more Malfoy than Lucius.

It seemed, as he suddenly grabbed her by the hips and stood that he had understood her invitation perfectly.

“Dismissed, Ridley.” He growled and she heard a seemingly much quieter pop now that her head wasn’t banging before being twisted into the pull of apparition.

As they landed at the foot of a large four-poster, Queen-sized bed which he planted her on the end of, he knelt between her slightly open thighs and looked into her now blown wide with desire eyes.

“Are you absolutely certain about this?”

Grabbing the lapels of his hunter green smoking jacket, she tilted her head slightly and brought his lips to hers; her tongue slipping along the seam of his lips before she pulled back.

“Completely and utterly, one hundred percent positive,” she replied with a grin, “now make me feel good as new. I’m sure the great Lucius Malfoy is better than a shower for that.”


End file.
